


Going Underground

by Background_Foxe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Sam Winchester, First Time, Incest, M/M, Oral Sex, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26482549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Background_Foxe/pseuds/Background_Foxe
Summary: A cave in traps the pair inside an underground bunker during a job, and Dean finds a surprising opportunity to explore sensations he'd been burying for some time.First time type fic with graphic sex and sarcasm, another one of my tester stories to play around with the boys
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 16
Kudos: 201





	Going Underground

They were on their second day of being trapped, and Dean was not a fan. He still wasn’t sure what the damned place was - a bunker, perhaps, or underground lair, or some weird lab that went for the evil Nazi aestics - but he’d now gone through all of the rooms and hadn’t found any hint of an escape route. Not that there were many rooms to choose from, of course. 

The main room was about the size of an apartment lounge, with the remains of a couple of bunk beds and a half beaten up table in one corner and a small kitchen area in the other. Investigations had discovered some out of date tinned food, some piping that fed in some metallic tasting water, a broken stove and various other metal boxes that were dented and rusty and unloved. Said main room had a door leading to the corridor they had come through which was now thoroughly blocked with both a solid metal door and what had sounded like a roof collapse on the other side. The only other door led to a small bathroom with a broken sink and a toilet that was thankfully still working in a vague fashion, although clearly attached to some sort of tank rather than a potential, if disgusting, route out.

So that was them, stuck in an underground lair with fuck all. They’d managed to get in with some of their kit but since the vast majority of their equipment aimed to kill bad things rather than be used in some messed up camping trip it hadn’t really improved matters. And it was cold, the type of cold that wasn’t too bad as long as you didn’t stay in it for too long, the type of cold that the word ‘bracing’ was invented for.

And said cold was the reason he was getting seriously worried about Sam.

Sam, of course, had dismissed this early on. He was fine, apparently. Completely okay. Nothing to worry about. Only mildly chilly. Honest.

All bullshit, of course. Sam, being Sam, had managed to end up in a pool of water as he’d dodged out of the way of a falling beam, and although the lack of squashed Sam was definitely a bonus it had meant that said brother had completely soaked his clothing. Dean had originally thought it funny but the solid chattering of Sam’s teeth after a few hours had changed that viewpoint pretty damned quickly. 

Man, this particular job was fucking terrible.

It wasn’t even as though he was sure they were in the right place. They’d had reports of odd lights and movements from the caves, and this part of the cave was apparently always a low temperature despite the rest of the town not being much better. And, of course, there were the corpses found in and around the town; five so far, each with a body organ removed by what appeared to be a determined clawed hand, and that normally ticked their interested box. Still, they hadn’t seen anything in the caves themselves, and the room had been ‘weird’ but hadn’t necessarily traced it back to ‘their type of weird’. 

That was probably a good thing. Freezing to death was one thing, getting viciously attacked and ripped to pieces was just adding insult to injury.

Dean groaned softly and tried to subtly rub his arms in an attempt to warm them up a bit as he glanced back at Sammy. They’d fished out the remains of a mattress from the bunk bed and Dean had threatened Sam to stay on the damned thing and be insulated from the cold metal/rock floor. He’d stripped his brother naked, which seemed an impolite but necessary thing to do with wet clothes in a cold place, and wrapped him up in Dean’s own clothes - shirt, socks, coat - and any other body part wrapped up in the battered fabric that was left from the bedding. Sam had refused Dean’s pants, boots and t-shirt on the basis that Dean didn’t want to be a popsicle either, but Dean still wasn’t sure his brother was warm enough. Sure, he looked a bit like a human burrito, but his skin was still pale and his lips had a distinctly blue tint to them. The clothes, unsurprisingly, refused to dry. Dean didn’t blame them.

He sighed softly. Part of him wanted to just burn whatever the fuck they had, but Sam had made a reasonable point regarding the smoke and chemicals versus their current ventilation. No point in being warm if you weren’t alive to enjoy it. Still, no point in the ability to breath if you weren’t alive to enjoy it either.

Dean moved back toward the beaten table and poked the abandoned radio again without much hope.

“Still nothing?” Sam asked from his corner, his voice slightly broken.

“Nada. Not a signal, not a sausage.” Dean resisted the urge to shove said radio through the wall and add to the mess. He growled softly and straightened again, pacing the floor as he tried to work out what to do. Escape seemed impossible. Place was solid. The roof didn’t go anywhere, the rooms carved out of caves as far as he could see and then just jazzed up. Needless to say his phones were very firmly on no signal without any intention to move.

“And Castiel?”

“Sammy, it’s a tiny room. There’s not much space for him to hide if he suddenly popped into existence.” Dean growled softly then sighed. Okay, probably wasn’t fair. “I’m praying every ten minutes. I dunno whether angels get voicemail but if he does then he’s got a fucking long list of swearing to get through. Something must be blocking him.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sam huddled down a little more in a little Sammy ball. Dean glanced at him again, even more concerned. Sam looked very sorry for himself, the wide, sorrowful eyes of a dog who had been shouted at for something the dog didn’t understand, and a shiver still blatantly obvious in his core. No, that wasn’t good and he had absolutely no idea how to help him.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked after a moment. Dean snorted softly.

“I’m stripping, what does it look like?” he moved across and began to add his t-shirt to the little ball of insulation around his brother. Sam squirmed as though trying to move away from the fabric, which of course was exactly what he was doing. Sam could be a friggin’ pain in the ass.

This was clearly not a habit he was willing to give up.

“Dean, you’re not some weird shaved polar bear, you _need_ clothes!”

“It’ll be fine.” Dean dismissed the concern. “Makes my nipples perkier.”

And made them fucking cold as well, but that wasn’t important. He fought the shiver and stalked back to the door with the excuse that he might well have thought of a new way to do things. He hadn’t, of course. Door wasn’t going anywhere short of having some explosives, and that was the one damned thing they’d left in the car. Salt wasn’t really going to get them anything other than seasoned dodgy rations, and the shotgun pellets would give enough to cause trouble and nothing more. And, as Sam had pointed out, they weren’t sure what else wasn’t stable. They might end up bringing in the roof.

Dean growled softly and a little helplessly. But they couldn’t stay here. The food would last for another week or so if they rationed it, they had water, but you only stayed alive when there was a chance that someone - _anyone_ \- might find them. Cas might not even look for them for another few months, by which time they’d have turned into little ice statues. 

A quick glance back at Sam told him that his brother had not given up about his clothing objections. Man, if they could use his stare for heating they’d be fully roasted by now.

“What?!” Dean snapped after a while. 

“Put your clothes back on.”

“No, I like being one with nature,” Dean did a little mock-hippy wiggle, his tone no better than the ‘what’. Sam shifted position, causing a few items of fabric to unwravel. Dean swore softly and moved back. “Sammy, stay the hell there! You’re not warm enough to move.”

“Then come over here and share it!” Sam snapped back. Dean growled.

“Gotta find a way out.”

“You’ve tried everything! Unless the current plan is to wear a hole in the floor and escape through that.” Sam huddled a little harder with the fierce expression still in his eyes. Dean growled softly again, this time a little defeatedly. Didn’t seem right, though. Curling up like that just felt like a statement that they planned to sit down and die, and he really didn’t have dying on his list of things to do. Even if he did, he wasn’t going out like this. Saving the world, or protecting his brother or something decent. Got stuck in a metal can and froze to death didn’t have the same ring to it.

“Dean.” Sam’s voice had turned to the soft, pleading one he used to use when he was a kid, and Dean winced slightly. Hard to resist, Sammy’s pleas. “C’mon. Just for a little bit.”

Dean hesitated. Didn’t like it. Didn’t like much in this job. But still, he wasn’t doing shit right about now, and Sam had a point. A small point, a slightly battered point, and certainly not a point whose existence should be admitted, but a point nevertheless. He shot Sam another unimpressed look, then glared at the door for its terrible attitude of not opening, and then stalked back toward Sam.

“Just for a short time. Just to add to your warmth, okay?” the words were grudgingly said. Sam grinned at him, a happy little burst in a sea of gloom and decay, and Dean couldn’t resist a small smile back at him. 

“Okay. Hang on, this might be tricky.” Sam squirmed a bit and frowned as he looked down at himself with the expression of one attempting a rubix cube. To a certain extent, Dean guessed he was. He sat down on the mattress - or at least, the half a mattress that had survived - and carefully helped Sam with the unwrapping and then wrapping up again. Well, this was damned hard, and Dean was reminded of how few clothes Sam was actually wearing when the arm he slid across his brother’s torso met bare skin.

“Coat can drape across both of us,” Sam explained as he tried to readjust his position for the best fit. Dean sighed and gently pushed his brother to face the other direction, spooning up to him as much as possible and then gently dragging the material over them again. A few moments longer and they were together, Dean’s chest on Sam’s back and willing himself to transfer all of his heat to his brother. 

“You okay?” Dean checked. Sam squirmed again, pushing back against him before giving a soft pleased sigh.

“Yeah. Bit better.” 

He sounded more relaxed, anyway. Dean closed his eyes and pulled his brother closer in a defensive move, which other observers might have described as a ‘snuggle’. But still. It worked, and no one needed to know about the alternative description. And, to be fair, it _was_ much better. Sam was still cold, almost permanently shivering as though he was a worn out vibrator set at a very low setting - and that was probably the weirdest description he’d ever made of his brother - but after the first little shock of cool skin on his own, it wasn’t actually that bad. Comforting, anyway. Dean leaned his forehead against Sam’s shoulder and released a soft sigh as he did so, his legs seeking out as much of Sam as possible to press against him. Sam was more than eager for that, a small wriggle backwards and a soft purr noise of satisfaction.

“You get any colder and I don’t care about the chemicals, I’m burning some shit.” Dean warned softly. “Perhaps I could break through something, get some extra ventilation going or a little chimney. That stove had to be going somewhere.”

“Looks like some sort of electric power extraction.” Sam murmured back, and his words seemed to vibrate through their forms. “But there’s gotta be somewhere the fresh air’s coming from. It’s not stale.”

“S’not warm either.” Dean muttered. “How far down are these caves supposed to go?”

“Don’t think anyone’s gone that far. There’s supposed to be some sort of beast in it.”

“Of course there is.” Dean replied gloomily.

“No evidence of such, though.” Sam added swiftly. “And the description changes over time, like people have evolved it with new themes. It’s supposed to feed off sheep and some unwary travellers.”

“Bit of a bastard to be an unwary traveller in a lot of these stories. Always be wary, that’s the motto.”

“Or stop sticking noses into dodgy areas?” Sam suggested.

“We follow that rule and we’re never gonna get any work done.” Dean countered softly, and felt more than heard Sam’s chuckle.

“Pretty typical, really. If it’s dark and shadowy and people haven’t explored it then there’s probably some sort of tale or monster attached to it.” Sam replied lazily. “And whoever was actually doing things here… well, they might have had some weird clunky noises. Or lights. This place looks like a research base to me.”

“This place looks like someone went nuts and decided to shove one of those sci-fi space stations into a cave system.” Dean objected. “What the hell would you research here?”

“I dunno, something that needs to be chilled? Or the caves. Or cheese.”

Dean blinked. “Cheese?”

“Yeah, cheese. You know, traditional stuff. Using natural caves for chilling isn't unusual.” Sam replied idly. 

“Of course, what else would an evil secret lair be doing other than chilling cheese? Especially lairs that look like it’s one step away from laser armed squirrels.” Dean replied drily. “Why do you know where they age cheese, anyway?”

“I like cheese.”

“There’s a ton of stuff I like, I don’t go into that much detail.” Dean objected, and moved closer again until his entire body was pressed hard against Sam. Sam groaned softly and shifted his weight, the curve of his ass neatly meeting up with Dean’s groin and pressing against it. Dean shivered, and not from the temperature; well, apparently cold definitely didn’t switch off his traitorous nerve endings. Dean bit his lip and pressed his forehead against Sam’s shoulder again, fighting against making any noise whatsoever.

“Dean?” Sam had noticed his tension. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Dean hoped his voice didn’t sound as strangled as it felt.

Sam hesitated. “You weren’t hurt and didn’t tell me, right?”

“No injuries, honest.” Dean shifted position and regretted it almost instantly. His body was a bastard. Could nothing switch the damned thing off? He shouldn’t be having this type of reaction in the first place, let alone when they were probably about to die in an ice-box. 

And yet all the words in the world telling him not to didn’t seem to have any effect whatsoever. Damn his rebellious nature.

His arm tightened around his brother, Dean absent-mindedly pressing a kiss against Sam’s shoulder blade as he did so and then freezing as he realised what he’d done. There was a longer pause.

“Dean?” Sam again. “Did you… did you just _kiss_ me?”

“No.” Dean lied through his teeth, and if he could have, several other people’s. There was another element of silence from Sam on that before there was another little noise and Sam grew less tense.

“Oh. Okay.”

Blessed silence. Dean’s eyes closed wearily, still pulling Sam tight to him and he was pleased to note that Sam’s little shiver had slowly whittled down to nothing. Their little snuggle wasn’t much but at least it was enough to take away the chill, and Dean smiled to himself at that. Sam might be out of school now but he was still his responsibility. Sure, they bickered, but which siblings didn’t? 

He pulled him tighter and breathed in Sam’s scent. Yeah, this was probably fucked up - actually, skip the probably - but still, the need to do it was something he couldn’t quite shake.  
He had no idea whether Sam had noticed, but if he had then he clearly didn’t mind; his brother had shifted his weight back further, for comfort more than heat generation, and Dean hooked his legs with his own. And this was very good, one big entanglement of limbs and bodies under a sea of random fabric, and Dean sighed softly as he nestled. Take pleasure where you could, for tomorrow you could die. Or some shit like that, he was tired and cold, fuck it.

“Dean.” Sam murmured, and now it reminded him of the times when they’d both been told to go to sleep by their irate father and were whispering in the dark, hoping he wouldn’t hear. Dean nuzzled his shoulder again.

“Mmm?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Since when did you need to check?” Dean murmured back, and fuck, now he was doing it. What were they worried about, keeping the neighbours up?

“Castiel.”

Dean waited but no further words were forthcoming. “Gonna need a bit more input if you want that to be a question, Sammy.”

“Has he told you why he’s so fascinated with you?” Sam obliged after a few moments. Dean frowned at him, or at least his shoulder which was getting a very puzzled stare indeed. Finally he gave a little huff-laugh, mostly because he had no idea what to do with that question.

“He’s not fascinated with me. I’m his task. He got me out of hell, so it’s kinda understandable he wants to make sure I don’t go back again.” Dean replied after a moment’s pause. “Anyway, it’s not _that_ bad.”

“Small children could see it’s _that_ bad,” Sam replied idly.

“Well, let’s stop talking to small children, okay?” Dean grumbled. “Which is probably a good general life rule anyway.”

“You kinda seem to be fascinated with him too,” Sam added, almost as a throwaway comment. And oh, that tone was deliberately careless. Dean frowned harder at the shoulder which, of course, didn’t really care.

“He’s my friend and he’s an angel and he does weird shit that generally helps us. It’s not as though he’s a random mailman or anything.” Dean objected, feeling a little defensive about the whole thing. “Anyway, why does it matter?”

“Oh, just curious.”

“Bullshit, that’s not a ‘just curious’ question.” Dean nuzzled him again, but in an irate manner. Seriously, Sam could always ruin a moment. “What, you’re jealous?”

There was a solid silence. Dean stopped nuzzling and stared at the unrepentant shoulder incredulously.

“Wait. You _are_ jealous?” he was bewildered. “He can’t take your place, brothers are for life, not just for christmas.”

“I’m not worried he’s going to be a new brother to you.” Sam replied crossly. 

“So… what?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Sam mumbled into his arm.

“Like fuck it doesn’t. C’mon, Sammy. Talk to me.” Dean huffed a soft laugh, trying to get Sam to relax. “It’s not as though we’re going anywhere.”

There was another solid silence. Dean growled softly and gently but firmly nudged Sam’s legs with his own. Sam made a soft growl of his own, but remained sullenly silent. Now Dean had no idea what the hell had happened.

“So, what? You’re worried he’s going to be my new bestest friend in the whole wide world and you’ll be a third wheel?” Dean huffed a laugh, then paused when there wasn’t a resulting exchange from Sam. “Sammy?!”

“I said it doesn’t matter.”

Which in anyone’s universe normally meant a ‘yes’, or at least in some part. Dean fell silent. Man, this was stuff he wasn’t good at during the best of times, let alone now. At least he had dark to hide himself in.

“He’s not going to replace you, Sam.” he said softly. “I promise.”

“D’you like him?” 

That was a loaded question if ever he heard it, and was fueling a quite frankly bizarre picture to form in his head. 

“Sam, are you asking me whether I want to fuck him?” Dean said in a very slow voice, as though discovering all those words for the first time. There was a tiny little shrug from Sam, which Dean was pretty sure translated into ‘yes’. 

And that? That was a question he hadn’t seen coming and wasn’t sure what the hell he was going to answer to it. It wasn’t, much to his surprise, as easy an answer as he would have anticipated.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Dean’s voice was a little incredulous. “I mean, we don’t know him that well yet, he’s an angel and he’s a … well, _he_.” Longer pause. “Does this mean _you_ want to fuck him?”

Sam sighed a weary sigh that was easily translated into ‘no’, with possibly a ‘you fucking idiot’ at the end but that was expert level translation. 

“.... did you want to fuck _me_?” Dean’s voice was uncertain, pretty sure he was breaking incest laws just by asking. And then there were no signs, no signals to translate, and he had no idea whether that was a ‘yes’ and Sam was embarrassed, or a ‘fuck, no’ and Sam was embarrassed with his brother nestled so close to his ass that they might be conjoined. 

There was a very, very long silence, and Dean was willing to let it go the distance. Whatever he would say would be wrong, he had absolutely no doubt on that.

“I told you,” Sam said finally, his voice a little heavy. “Just forget it.”

Dean wasn’t sure that was the type of thing you forgot in a hurry. He also wasn’t sure how he felt about it either. He breathed in Sam’s scent again, nuzzling his neck automatically and feeling the tension in his brother’s body slowly begin to relax. No, he had no idea what was happening, but it seemed kinda natural to allow another small kiss to rest on Sam’s shoulder again, his arm wrapped around Sam’s body to pull a little tighter and his hips to find an even closer spot to nestle. 

Sure, they could talk some more, and he would probably feel awkward and then say something stupid just to hide how uncertain he was and then there’d be a fight. Much better to just go for physical conversation and allow the words to fill in any blanks later on. Well, if he found any words to say. If anyone had asked him what the fuck was going on he’d probably have absolutely no idea what to tell them, and he was pretty sure Sam was in a similar position even with all his legal stuff.

The kiss on the shoulder moved to a small kiss on Sam’s neck, and there was that scent again, a rich, woody type of scent that felt natural and honest and a bit like he’d imagine some sort of deer to smell like if he ever got into kissing Bambi. Sometimes it was covered by soap or whatever shampoo Sam had pinched, but here and now all that had gone and it was just pure Sammy. 

Pure Sammy himself was reacting well to the touch. His back had arched a tiny amount, a small shiver working down his spine at Dean’s kiss that he was pretty damned sure wasn’t linked to any cold. Sam had moved his head closer to the bundle they’d been using as a pillow, a tiny movement but one that barred his neck a little more like a virgin offering themselves to a vampire. Dean nuzzled against his brother’s neck, feeling the heat and almost feeling the throb of the blood in Sam’s veins as he slowly, carefully kissed him again. And that wasn’t anything but a sensual kiss, a tiny little lick, a delicate suck, the lightest brush of teeth before his mouth rose again breathlessly.

His hand hadn’t been still either. Dean stroked it down Sam’s stomach, brushing lightly over his skin and feeling him shiver against him before Dean rested it lightly over his clothed groin. Well, there was definitely heat there, and it was hard, hot and definitely decisive on Sam’s viewpoint. Dean waited to see whether Sam would add some commentary to that but his brother was silent other than the occasional gasp or groan.

Yeah, this probably wasn’t the point for words.

Dean stilled as Sam rolled slightly onto his back and gazed at him in question. It was a good question, even if it hadn’t been verbalised, and for a moment he just looked back at him as he fought through his rapidly shrinking apprehensions. But then was there ever any doubt? 

Another small lopsided smile, and Dean had brushed his mouth over Sam’s in answer. Or at least he hoped it was an answer, anyway. They studied each other for a moment longer before Sam leaned up and closed the distance between their mouths again, just for a brief moment but enough to encourage Dean to follow him back down to the pillow and continue it.

Okay, then. Game on.

For a moment, their positions and the temperature issues were forgotten. Dean had gone back to Sam’s neck, little nips, licks and kisses, his day old stubble rasping against Sam’s neck as he suckled whilst his fingers played over his brother’s nipples. Sam had managed to move his hand to stroke across Dean’s thigh and anywhere he could reach without pulling a muscle, a mix of tender and excitement and need, and if it wasn’t so damned freezing Dean would have happily rolled them over together and -

\- well, he wasn’t sure where that would lead, but probably somewhere inappropriate. And since when had he ever worried about that? This was happening and-

-and a sudden noise grabbed their attention from their growing need back onto the room. Dean’s head snapped up as images of a claw-based monster with glowing eyes flashed into his mind, only to discover a stern look wearing a trenchcoat coming the other way instead. Dean’s eyes closed in relief. Thank fuck for that. Kinda.

“Cas.” he said, somewhat unnecessarily but it seemed the most appropriate thing to say. 

“Hello, Dean.” the angel squinted at him slightly, before his gaze moved slightly to the right. “Sam.”

Okay, so rescue had arrived but Dean wasn’t sure he actually wanted to go quite yet, still curled up in their blankets with his hand on Sam’s chest and his cock pressed against his hip. Still, it was Castiel and he represented a lot of things, including exits, cheeseburgers and heat.

There were a few other things he also represented, but that was a significantly more complicated line.

“You found us, then.”

“Yes. That is why I am here.” Castiel explained it patiently, just in case it needed further clarification. Dean sighed softly.

“Well, thanks. It’s damned freezing.” his hand was still on Sam but he sat up a little, making sure that his brother was still covered as best he could. The angel frowned a little.

“You do not have clothes on. Is this not counter-intuitive?” 

“We had to share clothes.” Sam answered truthfully. “Mine are wet.”

“I see.” Castiel looked no less bemused, but then that did seem to be his usual expression. Dean pushed himself up and moved to grab their stuff, throwing Sam’s reluctantly damp clothing on top of their bag and pulling on his boots. 

“Much as I love to chat, can we get out of here? I’m cold enough that my ear wax has frozen into a candle.” Dean glanced back at Sam and held out a hand to him before looking back at the angel. “Cas!”

Castiel’s gaze moved back to Dean’s eyes rather than the ear that the angel had been studying. “Oh. Yes. Here.”

It wasn’t even long enough to be called a blink of an eye but Dean didn’t care; they were back in their motel room, it was warm, and thank fuck for that. Sam was still on a bed half dressed, but he had flopped out on the mattress in exhaustion and Dean grinned at him before looking back at Cas.

“Thanks. Beginning to worry we weren’t gonna get out of there.”

“It was hard to locate you. Your signals kept flickering. Transporting into rock rather than a cave is often painful.” Castiel replied solemnly. “Are you well? Do you need any healing?”

“We’re okay. Nothing that a shave and a shower wouldn’t fix.” Dean grinned, then reviewed the list. “And some decent food.”

Castiel eyed him for a moment before waving a hand toward the table where several beers and packages of food had just miraculously appeared. Dean’s grin found a whole new level of grin to achieve. Man, he loved angels sometimes. Not all the time of course, and especially not when they were being shiny assholes, but definitely had their moments. 

He glanced back at Sam who was still collapsed on the bed but was watching them thoughtfully from his position. Oh, and he knew that slightly sulky expression. Dean licked his lips, thought about it, and then looked back at the angel. Some things you really, _really_ had to finish.

“Hey, Cas. Unless there’s some super emergency happening _right now_ , any chance Sam and I can have some hours to sleep and do all those human things before we have to Resolve The Current Crisis?” he paused. “Y’know. Alone.”

The look on the angel’s face was back to his quizzical frown, as though faced with an uncertain problem. Finally he tilted his head.

“I will be back in the morning.”

“At least 9am.” Dean clarified. “Not crack of dawn.”

“Of course.” the angel replied, although there was no ‘of course’ about it. Dean had no doubt he’d roll over in bed, open his eyes and suddenly be nose to nose. Sometimes that wouldn’t have been a bad thing, but not right at this point. No, he doubted that Sam would have liked it. Anyway, it always made him yell like a kid. 

“Thank-,”

The angel had vanished. Dean sighed.

“-you.” he finished, before glancing back at the bed where his scruffy but happily warm brother was still lounging in Dean’s coat and very little else. Toeing off his boots, Dean unfasten his pants and pulled them off, his gaze fixed on Sam’s as he did so. Moving to stand at the end of the bed, he cocked his head slightly.

“So.” he said.

Sam raised an eyebrow but apparently words were on strike. 

“Guess we’re a bit like ghosts.” the corner of Dean’s mouth twitched upward. “Unfinished business. You warmer?”

“Yeah.” Finally a little ghost of a smile. “Much better.”

Dean gave a small little nod, his gaze drifting downward briefly before moving upward again. “You.. ah, are kinda still in my clothes.”

“Did you want them back?” Sam queried softly.

“If you wouldn’t mind.” Dean drawled, and grinned a little more as the coat and remains of the shirt were tossed to one side. Finally Sam sank back naked on the bed and stared defiantly at Dean, who had already pushed himself onto the mattress and prowled forward in a crawl like a very hungry tiger. In many respects, he was. Just needed a few more stripes, and there were any number of demons and creatures keen to give them to him.

Finally he paused, straddled over his brother as though Sam had been deemed the next big meal. In many respects, that wasn’t too far off the mark either.

For a little while they simply watched each other, a strange sort of stalemate as both tried to work out the other’s intention without using words and potentially ruining everything. Sam gave the smallest tilt of his forehead. Dean’s eyebrow twitched. Well, they were in agreement. Or there was a faint possibility that they weren’t, and this was all going to end up messily but they were pretty good at that nowadays.

Dean leaned down to brush his mouth over Sam’s again, tasting Sam and a bit of residue grime from the Cave Thing, before grinning again and deepening it further. Sam allowed him a few moments of dominance before kissing back harder, Sam’s tongue over Dean’s mouth to request entrance. Growling playfully, Dean ran his hand across Sam’s chest and gently pulled Sam with him as Dean fell to one side, their mouths not breaking the kiss as he did so.

Still, there was a point where oxygen was required. The briefest of breaks where both were breathless and flushed, before the battle raged on. They were skin to skin quicker than Dean had anticipated, Sam so damned close and Dean leaning into his warmth as they continued to kiss and nip and suck at each other with the desperation of those normally faced with life and death situations. 

He could feel Sam’s hands sliding over his back and down to his ass but Dean was more interested in the front; he broke off the kiss and leaned down to suckle on his brother’s nipple, delighting in the little hiss of sensation and even more so as his hand stroked along Sam’s hard length and the hiss turned into a soft growl whine. Dean chuckled breathlessly as he felt Sam’s nails dig into the meat of his ass in protest, then glanced up with sparkling eyes.

“Don’t get ideas, Sammy. I’m the oldest. I get to go on top.”

“This is sex, not bunkbeds.” The objection was sulky.

“Same principle.” Dean flashed a winning grin. Sam rolled his eyes then huffed a laugh and continued to scratch his nails down Dean’s ass. Dean closed his eyes briefly. Man, that felt both ouch and good at the same time, a little throb in his groin that wasn’t quite a throb and certainly wasn’t that little.

“Man, you’re gonna drive me insane.” he groaned.

“Why change a habit of a lifetime?” Sam purred softly and with another chuckle, his fingers teasing and massaging. Dean chuckled and rolled them back to Sam on the bottom, staring over him hungrily before stealing another kiss. And another. He trailed small kisses down Sam’s body happily, wallowing in the little soft noises of pleasure from his brother. Dean hesitated as he got further south, the soft fuzz of hair on Sam’s stomach that led down to an erection that Dean was pretty damned sure he would have had difficulty accommodating. 

Sam’s hand rested lazily in Dean’s hair as the older Winchester studied the penis in front of his nose. Seen plenty of them in his time but normally only in the wild, changing rooms, porn, stuff like that. Right now he could see every little change of skin, the colours, the way it reacted to tiny stimuli, and he wasn’t sure whether he should be fascinated or uncertain.

“Never been with a guy, huh?” Sam queried softly, his hand still gently stroking through his hair as though Dean was the world’s largest puppy dog. Dean glanced upward and grinned awkwardly.

“Not really. Closest I got was fucking in the same room as another couple.” Quick pause and a glance. “You?”

“Partly. Hands mostly. Pretty drunk so probably for the best the place got busted early.” Sam lifted an eyebrow. “And no, this was not with you around so don’t worry about me sneaking out to do naughty things behind your back. You’re safe.”

Dean snorted softly and went back to his investigation. “Y’know, it’s much easier when you’re receiving,” he commented. “S’like the world’s largest lollipop.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you’re on t-ngh!” The ngh part related directly to the flat of Dean’s tongue licking a trail from mid-shaft up across sensitive nerves and then over the velvet softness of Sam’s cockhead. And that was good, like a weird Sammy keyboard, and Dean strived to find the best noises he could possibly find out of him. They were even better if Dean licked whilst looking up at his brother, an added visual erotic element that seemed to turn Sam a little wilder than before. 

Grinning again, Dean settled down like a dog with a bone and slowly, carefully slid his mouth over the tip of his brother’s cock. It was a good pressure, not too hard but not too soft as he took him deeper. Man, those reactions were awesome, and even better when he started to suckle, a deep whine from the back of Sam’s throat that Dean wasn’t even sure his brother knew he was making.

Taste wasn’t that bad either. After a few moments it had essentially boiled down to saliva other than the occasional saltier hit from pre-cum, and Dean took immense pleasure in running the tip of his tongue along the rim of Sam’s cock and delicately flickering it over the little nerve spot at the base like some weird erotic snake. Sam was past talking, his head tipped back on the mattress and his breathing unsteady; his hand curled harder in Dean’s hair which Dean was taking as a good thing, and even better at the shudder as Dean added his hand to the equation by stroking over the length and playing with Sam’s balls at the same time. 

“Fuck,” Sam whimpered. Dean would have said a one liner at that point but he had his mouth full and that was probably impolite. Instead, he rolled Sam’s balls a little more and grinned to himself as his brother squirmed helplessly. 

Still, as an idea it wasn’t a bad idea, and Dean allowed his fingers to drift a little further between his brother’s legs to tease experimentally with a fingertip toward the entrance of his ass. And that just seemed to make Sam even more excitable, which was an extremely good sign. Dean didn’t like to brag, but it wasn’t as though he was likely to be an easy fit either. Kinda looking forward to the expression on his brother’s face, which was probably fucked up, minus the probably.

He’d also found himself a rhythm; suckle, puppy dog licks, deeper movements, rinse and repeat, hand working in time, and other than a low ache in his jaw that developed over time it was actually pretty good. Add some chocolate sauce on there to lick it off and that would be even better. 

Sam’s hand tightened in his hair a little more, to the extent that it was actually beginning to hurt. Dean glanced up, uncertain whether this was a sign, but there was nothing wrong with Sam’s mouth if he wanted to swear at him. But nah, that was not Sam’s annoyed face. He’d had plenty of experience with that face in the past. He grinned again and carried on with his work, refining and improving with each little shudder and whimper. 

“Dean..,” the hand tightened again, his name a soft gasp, a plea or possibly a warning. Dean smirked as best he could under current circumstances, gave a final long, lingering lick and then lifted his head. Sam groaned and flopped down again.

“Gonna need some lube,” Dean frowned, trying to work out what the hell they had.

“..What?” Sam clearly wasn’t in the mood for thinking. A hand waved toward the door. “Uh, I think we have some .. stuff.”

Dean frowned. “Define stuff.”

“I don’t know, can’t you just.. Improvise?” 

“D’you think I just have oil sitting around for -,” Dean stopped dead. Sam, always suspicious of unanticipated silences, raised his head slightly to give him a wary look. Said wary look increased as Dean jumped off the bed and rooted around some of his supplies.

“... what is it?”

“Gun oil.” Dean tossed the little bottle on the bed. Sam’s expression did not improve.

“Isn’t that.. Y’know, _toxic_?!” 

“Real stuff? Yeah.” Dean looked slightly awkward. “I kinda grabbed the wrong stuff. In my defence, it has gun oil on it in big bold letters, okay? It’s just lube. As in lube lube.”

“As opposed to the other sort of lube lube,” Sam replied slowly.

“Hey, it’s got big bold letters! See? Gun Oil.”

“So you thought that the most logical place for gun oil was with the condoms and pharmacy stuff?”

“Look, do you want to do this or not?” Brothers. Honestly. “It’s safe. Honest to god, or any angel you fancy.” 

He was unwrapping the top and popping it open as he spoke, taking a suspicious sniff but only finding a clean type of smell. Just as well he hadn’t put it on his gun, that would have been really weird. Sam looked at him for a moment before huffing a laugh and falling back down again.

“Dean, you’re nuts.”

“I try.” he said cheerfully, smearing his fingers with the liquid and raising an eyebrow. “So, you up for this?”

“Be awkward if I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, but we’re good at awkward.” Dean winked and gingerly crawled back into position. He glanced up at Sam again, this time with no joking whatsoever, and was pleased when there was another little tilt of the head in answer. There was an intense look of concentration in Sam’s eyes, as though they were just about to try out some wacky jinx ritual without a clear idea how it was going to head up, and that was weirdly good as well.

Fingers found their mark again, drifting lightly across Sam’s crack and earning a soft little noise from his brother who had already bitten his bottom lip. Dean gently nudged Sam’s legs open a little more as his fingers slowly began to explore deeper, gently flickering over the hidden entrance and watching his brother’s expression change as he did so, from intense to confused to concentrated to boyish to worried and then all the way back again. Every so often their eyes met, as though Sam was seeking reassurance from his older brother, before he went back to whatever internal thoughts he was having as Dean slowly ran his finger around the tight ring delicately.

Man, the soft indrawn breath that Sam made was pretty damned intoxicating, and Dean felt the throb in his core take on a whole new level of impact. Said finger pressed slowly but firmly on the hole, dipping in slightly and then slowly, gently but determinedly pushing inward. The soft indrawn breath turned into something more mewling, Sam biting his lip a little harder in the process to keep himself from saying things and in the process making him look like a kid again. A kid in a really large and very sexy body, but still. Dean slowly slid the finger deeper and then paused to give him a chance to recover before moving it again; within a short time he had increased the speed and rhythm, feeling Sam slowly begin to relax against him as they found an acceptable area for both of them. 

Another finger caused Sam to tense a little more, a soft gasp as he was stretched, but Sammy was eager now and had started to move against him before even Dean was ready. Chuckling, Dean tried to match him, and added a small corkscrewing motion of his own to Sam’s little takeover bid. As suspected, the unexpected movement suddenly ground Sam to a halt in his attempts to understand what the hell was happening to his ass. 

“Dean-,” a hand reached out for him helplessly and flopped on the bed as Dean stretched him a little more. 

“Now?” he breathed.

Sam’s voice had failed him once again; flushed and breathless, he managed a nod before his head fell back onto the mattress. And that sounded good to Dean. A few seconds later and Dean had manoeuvred into position, hands hooked under Sam’s hips to help line him and feeling the tip of his cock press gently against his target. Another quick glance at Sam to check there were no last minute panics - a check that resulted in a very unimpressed look from his brother - before he slowly began to push in.

And man, he almost came immediately with that pressure. Dean bit his lip hard enough to taste blood as he took a few moments to compose himself, aware that Sam was desperately in need of a few moments himself based on the words whispered under his breath like an erotic spell ritual. So tight. So hot. Fitted like a glove, albeit one that needed a little bit of walking time to get the fit just right. He was pressed right up against Sam’s body, his hands keeping him steady and feeling every little breath and gasp vibrate through him just as Dean desperately tried to calm himself down. Fuck.

“Dean… move…,” Sam panted finally, and almost in an order. Still, he was the one with the cock shoved deep up his ass, and Dean reckoned his little brother had earned the right for this case. Needless to say, that was an order he was more than on board with, as well.

He started to move, slowly and cautiously at first, pausing at any noise that sounded more like a yelp until the only yelps that Sam was making was more of a growl that Dean wasn’t taking it as fast as he wanted. Picking up the speed and power, Dean grinned to himself as the growls turned into soft ‘nghs’ instead, fingers digging into Sam’s thighs as he worked. And working was right, hard, strong and enough force that Dean could already feel the sheen of sweat as he continued, over and over, hard enough that it could have been called a punishment if both of them hadn’t been desperately crazy for it.

Wasn’t the best position though; Dean gave one more hard thrust before pulling out entirely, pleased by Sam’s little cry of loss and general annoyance before he gently slapped his brother on the hip.

“Flip.” he ordered, voice rough. Sam eyed him for a moment, a sulky reaction about the ordering, before rolling and pushing himself up onto hands and knees. Dean purred deep in his throat before grabbing hold of Sam’s legs and pulling him closer roughly.

“Good boy,” he murmured softly and Sam was just about to say something - probably that he wasn’t a dog, but there was a number of growls he could have made - before that was ruined by Dean thrusting back into him so deep that he probably could have reached tonsils. 

From that point on it was game on. Hands tight on Sam and his breathing already quick, Dean added more strength to his thrusts as he added speed and power and felt Sam push back against him as he did so. The glove fitted perfectly by now, smooth and easy, and Dean forced himself to behave as he continued to work. Damned hard, though. Every little squeeze of Sam’s muscles sent another wave of pleasure through him to add to the throbbing need building steadily, and Sam was doing that a lot once he’d worked out the impact it had on his brother being the bastard he was. Dean bit his lip even harder and worked through it, stronger and quicker, and desperate to fight the looming climax that was so damned near he could taste it.

A little shift ruined that plan; one further deep thrust and Sam’s body had clamped down on him so tight he almost couldn’t breath, Sam’s back arched and a shocked cry ripped from his throat. Any resistance he had was so damned close to being washed away entirely, and Dean slid his hand around his brother to roughly stroke Sam’s cock alongside his movements, not exactly delicate but he was pretty sure neither of them cared. 

Didn’t take long before Sam tensed underneath him, his whole body stilling for a moment before coming hard with a muffled cry and the way his muscles clamped down on him was the last brick out of the hastily built wall. His fingers digging in even harder, Dean shuddered through his own release, lost in the sensation before all but collapsing over his brother’s back as his own strength decided to abandon him for a quick cigarette. 

Slowly pulling out, Dean flopped to one side of his brother and lazily offered him a grin. Sam groaned softly, stretched out his back like a dog getting up from a nap before slowly lying down next to him and pulling Dean into a light kiss. 

Still out of breath, Dean eyed him.

“So.. you okay?” he checked.

“M’fine.” Sam’s grin was sleepy. “You? You sounded like someone was trying to strangle you.”

“Well, they weren’t.”

Sam yawned. “Good, ‘cause that’s kinda too kinky even for me.” he advised, squirming up closer and pausing. “And you’re sticky.”

“Pretty sure sticky’s an optimistic description.” Dean replied, a little ruefully. “Anyway, so are you. Just from a different direction.”

Sam seemed unrepentant, which seemed fair enough considering Dean was the one who’d put it there in the first place. He chuckled softly and then stole another kiss.

“Two more minutes and then you can share a shower with me.”

“I’ve seen the shower and you’re the size of a moose. I really, really can’t.” Dean pointed out cheerfully. Sam rolled his eyes. 

“No sense of challenge.” his grin was sweetness itself.

“Fuck you, Sammy-kins.” Dean returned the tone with a grin.

“Did that. Wasn’t bad. Solid 8 out of 10, would recommend.”

“Only 8 out of 10?” A little flicker of a sulk on Dean’s face. Hey, he was trying! And his back ached. 

“If I give you higher then you won’t explore new things. And anyway, my ass feels like it’s just been used as a railway tunnel.” Sam replied reasonably, pulling him back into yet another kiss. Still, practice made perfect, and that was definitely not something that Dean was going to object to.

“So, you want to explore further?” Dean rose an eyebrow curiously.

“We should, really. Y’know, for science.”

Science? Dean grinned. Well, who was he to stop progress?

END


End file.
